


May The Odds...

by orphan_account



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alliances, Death, District 12, Gen, Hunger Games, Minor Character Death, Minor Original Character(s), Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Tributes, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:14:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22330924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: So I love the Hunger Games series and decided to write an original story that isn't connected to the original storyline. God knows where I'll go with this or if I'll even finish it (I'll try to this time).





	May The Odds...

I wake up to the sound of my stomach growling as I do every morning. In a weird way it's comforting. The sound is almost satisfying. The feeling however, is the exact opposite so I struggle out of bed to find some food. I don't expect to find anything, we live in District 12 after all. There's never much to eat and starvation isn't a nuisance, it's a real danger. Some days I wonder what it would be like to have actual food. I've seen it, beautifully decorated cakes at the bakery that would cost more than we ever make in our lifetimes, a delicious smelling mixture of meat and vegetables that I would kill for. Every part of me was telling me to go and steal some to bring home to my family, we could all have a feast and wake up the next morning full. But I can't, I'll probably be killed if I do. So we live off what we can, mostly scraps on the street and various flowers and other plants. We used to have a small garden when I was young which provided well enough until there was a water shortage. Any water we had we would rink or else we would die of thirst and it didn't take long for the crops did just that.

Today I feast on a meal of dandelions and a mushy fig I found on the street. Disgusting, but it'll keep me going for a little while. Today is the day of the Reaping, where two of us will be picked to kill off 22 other boys and girls until only one is still alive. Everyone stays inside today, spending time with their family and friends. I'm not, I'm out with a sack and the will to not starve to death. Since barely anybody is on the street today, there is no one to take the scraps and garbage on the street. I go along collecting bits of fruit or discarded bread chunks. Most of it is ruined in some way but to us that doesn't matter. As long as nothing is living in it, it's good to eat. I venture further into the town where all the shops and things are. Most of them are closed today but there is one that is always open. It's owned by a man named Ferry and he is pretty much my only friend in this place. He sells goats to the few who can afford them but he often has leftover milk or cheese as he only provides for himself. He makes his money by selling the milk and cheese and often gives away some to anybody he's close to or anyone who needs it.

"How are ya' Agnes?" I hear him say from inside his stable. He always greets everyone in the same happy, charming way. He always seems to be happy and I think he's the only reason everybody here is still sane.

"I'm alright, just looking for anything edible as usual," I reply

"Well it is a very special day and i seem to have a surplus. Why don't you take this?" he hands me a big slice of goat cheese and a jug of milk. I stare at it for a second before carefully putting the cheese in my sack.

"Thank you, this is quite a lot, are you sure about this?" I say while looking at the creamy white liquid sloshing around in the metal jug.

"Of course, anything for my favorite customer. You stay safe now Agnes," he says with a soft smile. I smile back and thank him again. I might as well bring this home, the Reaping is gonna start soon anyways. I say goodbye to Ferry and head home. When I enter the house my father is sitting at the table writing a book. He always seems to be writing a book and they aren't half bad. Though even if he was able to get them mass produced, no one would buy them, they wouldn't dare spend their precious money on anything that isn't useful in keeping them alive.

"Hey Agnes, what did you get?" he asks as I put the sack on the table.

"Just the usual stuff and some cheese from Ferry," I open the sack and take out the cheese.

"Oh that's very nice of him," he says with a smile.

"He also gave me this." I lift the heavy jug onto the table and my father stares at it with his mouth open.

"Is that-"

"Goat milk, fresh. It should keep us going for a while."

It's been a long time since we had any milk but it's great when we do. Even though it isn't food, it tastes great and makes you feel more full than you actually are. If we had enough money we would buy a goat of our own but they are way too expensive for us. We will enjoy this though, we won't have long to drink it as milk will spoil quickly so me and my father have some now. It might be warm, but it still tastes like the best thing ever right now.

Me, my father, and my mother sit and talk as we wait for the call to the city center. There isn't much to talk about so most of the time is spent just sitting there in silence. After what felt like a year of sitting, the alarm finally sounds. We exit our house to see everyone else doing the same. The 12 year olds who are just now eligible to be picked are terrified and clinging to their parents. The older kids try to look calm but you can see a hint of fear in their eyes. After all, they're more likely to be picked. I'm somewhere in the middle, at 15 years old, I have my name in the pot a few time automatically and I have it in a few more times for tesserae. Even if I only had it in once I would still be terrified and nervous. It's hard not to be.

We make our way to the center of the town through the way I went to collect food earlier. The only difference between now and then is the addition of peacekeepers. Some are making sure we don't run off and others go back the way we came to retrieve anyone who tried staying home. We pass by Ferry's shop and our eyes meet. This is one of the only times of the year where his smile disappears. It's replaced by concern and he gives me a nod as if to say, 'Good luck,' and I will need it today.

We enter the town center and get into lines according to our age. I slip in between two kids I don't know and follow the line. We need to get our blood taken. It's not that bad, it doesn't hurt much and I prefer to worry about the Games but a lot of the younger kids are freaked out. The needle enters my finger and I look at the person taking our blood. He looks bored, almost as if he doesn't care that he might be sending one of these kids to their deaths.

"Next," he says and sends me on my way. We get sorted into each half of the square by gender with the youngest at the front and the oldest at the back. On school trips like this with big groups no one will shut up. Here however, it's completely silent. We watch Effie Trinket, District 12's escort, walk up on the stage that was put up for the Reaping.

"Welcome everybody! Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor!" she says to the crowd of silent children. After a few moments of awkward silence she introduces herself. There is really no reason for her to because everyone already knows her. In the capital she's sort of a joke, having been assigned to District 12, the poorest of the Districts. Here in 12 she's seen as weird and annoying. She's always cheery but unlike Ferry it's not charming, just unsettling.

"Before we begin, I have something special to show you all. A message from President Snow!" it's bound to be the same film they show every year, propaganda they show us about the war that caused the Hunger Games. District 13 was destroyed and the remaining 12 Districts were forced to provide one boy and one girl to fight to the death every year. The President's voice booms out of the speakers and tells us about the history of Panem and the Games. When it's over, Effie speaks again.

"Beautiful, now, without further ado, let's get to choosing tributes, starting with the ladies," her hand reaches into a big glass bowl on her left, pulling out a small card with one of these girls names on it. She opens the card and reads the name aloud. My name.

"Agnes Herrit."


End file.
